Anthem

Anthem

A. M. Leibowitz

Smashwords Edition

Supposed Crimes LLC, Matthews, North Carolina

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2016 A. M. Leibowitz

Published in the United States

ISBN: 978-1-938108-96-9

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

"On the contrary, Aunt Augusta,

I’ve now realized for the first time in my life

the vital Importance of Being Earnest."

-Jack, The Importance of Being Earnest (Oscar Wilde)

Chapter One

Trevor! Trev, get your ass down here and help me haul this thing up, Nate Kingsley hollered up the stairs.

Yeah, haven’t got all day! another voice rose from the entryway—Jamie Cosgrove, one of their other soon-to-be roommates.

Trevor Davidson thundered down the stairs. I’m coming, I’m coming!

That’s what he said, the other two chorused.

Trevor scrunched his nose at them. Nice, guys.

A neighbor stuck her graying head out of her door and snapped, Keep it down.

Once she disappeared back inside, Jamie, who was still perched on the end of the couch they were supposed to move, snickered. Nate rolled his eyes.

Does she expect us to be silent while moving furniture into the apartment? he asked.

Probably. Guess it’s a good thing we’re not right above her, Trevor said.

He took hold of one end of the beat-up couch, Nate took the other, and they ported it up the stairs. Jamie followed them with an armload of boxes, bringing snow and swirling wind into the entry with him. Trevor wondered how the four of them—including Jamie’s friend Mack Whitman—were going to fit everything in. It was certainly cheaper to rent a nicer place together as none of them earned enough money for anything bigger than a studio. That was the price of being not-yet-famous musicians, working odd jobs and performing on the side. None of them were in a position to move out of Boston at the moment, so this arrangement would have to suffice. At least it was close to the T station, since Mack was the only one with a car.

It was just Trevor and Nate moving in; Mack and Jamie already shared the apartment, but they’d lost their previous roommates. Unable to afford the rent even on a cheap three-bedroom in Weymouth, Jamie and Mack had advertised for new tenants. After a mutual friend alerted Trevor to the opportunity, he had invited his oldest friend along for the ride, knowing Nate had to get out of his own bad situation.

They had been college roommates, and Nate had spent the entire previous year and a half going from couch to couch because his parents had no interest in letting him stay there, even if he paid rent. They were relatively liberal, but they thought making Nate leave home would force him to have a more stable job than performing opera. They were the kind of people who viewed the arts as consumables, not careers. Trevor counted himself fortunate his parents were more relaxed about having their grown son living at home. Then again, there were a lot of things Trevor’s parents didn’t know about him—by his choice—which might have made them feel otherwise. Nate was definitely one of those things.

To pay the bills, Trevor worked as the newly-minted Director of Music Ministry at a non-denominational church, having been promoted from his part-time gig as their pianist and Sunday worship leader. The title was a lot fancier than his paycheck, but it was enough to get by with a little help from his friends through rent-sharing. So far, it involved being the voice of the church’s weekly worship podcast, and they’d already put out a couple of CDs of their music. They weren’t popular yet, but the music had been a draw for people, and the church had doubled its size in the previous year after a mass mailing promoting the band.

Nate had a job as a barista at a local coffee shop a few blocks away. Trevor didn’t discuss that particular occupation with the members of his church, nor did he suggest they frequent the shop. He had a very good idea what most of them would think of the owner—and of Nate, for that matter. Trevor sometimes wondered if Nate’s sheer height scared the customers, but he never asked.

While Nate and Jamie worked on positioning the couch, Trevor set the boxes in the bedroom he and Nate would share. Trevor stepped out and nearly collided with Mack, who was in the process of taking two guitars into the tiny spare room they were using to house all their music equipment. Flattening himself against the wall, Trevor let Mack pass then returned to the living room.

Jamie dumped an armload just inside the door. Who the hell had the brilliant idea to move in the middle of winter? He brushed snow off his slim shoulders.

It’s not technically winter, Trevor informed him, pulling the boxes farther into the living room. Three more days.

Who cares? It’s fucking cold out there. Jamie scowled at him and shook melting snow out of his spiky brown hair.

Just a few more things and we’re done, Nate said. Home sweet home.

Yeah, as soon as we unpack everything, Trevor replied.

You mean we can’t leave all your shit in boxes for the next however long we live here? Jamie asked, toeing off his boots. I wouldn’t care.

Not a chance. I refuse to live with slobs, Trevor told him.

Mack, appearing in the doorway, jerked his thumb at Trevor and said to Nate, Was he this bad when you roomed together in college?

Yes, Nate said at the same time Trevor said, No.

Jamie laughed. If it bothers you that much, you’re on permanent cleaning duty.

I refuse to do dishes, Mack announced. I get enough of that at work.

That was fair. Mack and Jamie worked at Legal Seafood, Jamie as a server and Mack busing tables and washing dishes. With his shaggy black hair, his multiple piercings, and his canvas of body art, he didn’t exactly make the kind of impression the restaurant wanted to have on customers. Jamie, on the other hand, was the sort of adorable that made people swoon—all pint-sized, clean-cut, and blue-eyed innocence. If Trevor were honest, he’d have to admit Jamie was sort of pretty, in a boyish way.

Trevor rolled his eyes at all of them. "Do not put me in charge of cleaning. I will make you three suffer."

You’d better listen to him, Nate said. He means it. He shrugged. At least our dorm room was always clean, though. Nothing like bringing a date home and having to shove dirty clothes under the bed on your way past.

At Nate’s comment, Trevor’s stomach tightened. None of them had talked at all about dating, and he wasn’t sure if Mack or Jamie knew what Nate meant by a date. He wasn’t clear on what Mack or Jamie might mean, either.

Well, there’s my pet peeve, Jamie said, breaking Trevor out of his rumination. You three had better let me know when you plan to have company. I absolutely do not want to walk in on any one of you going at it on the couch, and I don’t need you all interrupting me if my boyfriend is here.

Trevor relaxed. So Jamie was cool and by extension, Mack as well. That made at least one place he didn’t have to pretend to be a homophobic ass. Probably best to keep some of that from his employers, in much the same way he hadn’t given his parents every detail on either his or Nate’s relationships. He might not have known what his parents would think about Nate, but he was one hundred percent sure they would think Trevor had somehow tarnished his relationship with his girlfriend. They were a bit traditional.

He replied, Fair enough. I’m sure my girlfriend will appreciate that. He ignored Nate’s nudge. Are we agreed, then? We keep the place clean, and we give a heads up on guests.

Sounds like a plan. Jamie eyed Trevor, making his neck sweat. He couldn’t possibly know anything, but it still made Trevor feel uncomfortable.

Good. Then let’s get the last of your shit and make this thing official with a pizza, Mack suggested.

Right, Trevor said, and the four of them set off down the stairs.

#

Trevor lay on his mattress, a light from outside glowing yellow against the still-falling snow. He was glad to be wrapped in his thick, warm blanket. His thoughts drifted to Marlie, his on-and-off girlfriend of many years. They’d known each other since diapers, and they’d been together in one way or another since junior high school. Although they’d split up multiple times over the years and dated other people in between, they’d always come back to the familiarity of each other. They were currently in a holding pattern, mostly because Trevor needed to get his head straight about their relationship and where it was headed.

Over the years, they’d tried couple-hood multiple times, always resulting in calling it quits after a few months. This time, they’d stayed together for two years, both of them coming at it with more maturity than a pair of teenagers expected to go out because their parents were friends. For almost six months, Marlie had been hinting that it was time for them to make a more firm commitment. She’d said it would be a good career move, but Trevor knew there was more to it than that. She was dealing with a lot of pressure about their relationship, and he knew it.

He had to admit she was probably right about it being a good idea, though. They’d been together for enough time during their most recent phase they wouldn’t be able to give the impression of having a sweet, chaste romance much longer. Two years was the upper limit on pretending they weren’t sleeping together, and God knew the church loved a good sex scandal. Sadly, that included the very mundane truth that most relationships of any length involved more than cuddling and hand-holding. If the pastoral staff found out he and Marlie were intimate, he could face consequences ranging from making a formal apology to the church to losing his job. He’d seen it happen in other churches, and he had no doubt this one would be the same, whether they spelled it out or not. The one question he couldn’t answer was why he didn’t feel more enthusiastic about the prospect, despite the benefits he would reap personally and professionally.

With a sigh he turned over, listening to the slushy whoosh of the late-night traffic and trying to relax enough to sleep. The mattress dipped next to him, and he turned his head to look at his oldest friend other than Marlie. Nate planted an intentionally slobbery, wet kiss on Trevor’s cheek.

We did it! We’re finally all moved in.

Breaking out of his melancholy, Trevor laughed and wiped his face then rolled so he was facing Nate. Yeah. Ugh, I can’t wait until we get all the crap cleaned up.

Give us a few days before you start the lectures, okay? Nate rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

Fine. Trevor reached out and put his hand on Nate’s arm.

Nate hummed and leaned in to kiss Trevor lightly. They stayed with it for a few minutes then Nate slid his hand from Trevor’s hip around to the front and dipped his fingers in the waistband of his flannel pajama pants.

We should christen the new apartment, he murmured against Trevor’s lips.

Trevor pulled back. I don’t think so. He jerked his head in the direction of the other bedroom.

Oh, please. We did this in a dorm room with the thinnest walls ever. Are you saying you can’t keep quiet for a hand job? Besides, Jamie’s all right, and I assume Mack wouldn’t care.

I mean it. Trevor shook his head.

Nate huffed and withdrew his hand. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling; Trevor mimicked his actions. They were quiet for a few minutes.

Eventually, Nate said, This isn’t about keeping secrets from our very obviously cool roommates. Wanna tell me what’s going on?

We need to stop. He looked over at Nate. I mean, with Marlie and all.

You’ve never been all that serious with her, Nate countered. If you were, you’d have asked her to marry you already.

I am serious! Trevor insisted. Besides, I think…well, with my job and everything… He trailed off.

I see. Nate scowled.

I don’t think you do. Trevor sat up and drew his knees to his chest. Maybe this is part of my life I need to put behind me, you know? It’s time to settle down with Marlie. Gotta get things on track.

Nate sat up too. Put it behind you? It’s not a faucet, Trevor. You don’t just turn off your whole identity, and you definitely don’t do it for a damn job.

Who said anything about turning off my identity? I’m saying I’m not ready for that. Maybe I need to try having a real relationship for once.

What do you mean by ‘real’? Nate asked. Real because it’s with a woman so you get the Jesus stamp of approval?

Don’t you dare mock my faith. Trevor glared at him.

I wasn’t mocking. You should know me better than that. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. You didn’t answer my question.

Trevor looked down at his hands. No. Real because it’s more than just messing with each other in bed now and again. He glanced at Nate, whose face was stony. I’ve always been with Marlie, and I thought it was understood she and I would eventually stay together. What you and I did was great, but it’s part of the past now. Fooling around between friends. Did it mean something else?

Nate’s head was tipped back, and his gaze was firmly fixed on the ceiling. It’s how I knew I would never be able to pretend to like girls. He cleared his throat. Right from that first time when you slept over at my house. He looked directly at Trevor. Don’t kid yourself. I can’t remember a single time you ever refused, until now. You liked it every bit as much as I did.

Yes, but I’m telling you now I can’t anymore.

Because you keep refusing to admit you don’t really want to be with her, Nate snapped.

Did you even hear me? I’m not like you. Trevor huffed.

Bullshit. If you loved Marlie that much, you’d have done something about it by now. Maybe it’s time to stop lying to yourself and everyone around you.

We’ve outgrown that, Nate. I get that you’re gay and all, but I’m not. Before you judge me, please listen. I have to have a certain image, just like you do. My image doesn’t happen to include secretly fooling around with you while building a relationship with Marlie. He lay back down. That would be true even if you were a woman.

Nate settled down beside him. Well, that last part I can agree with, anyway. He leaned over and kissed Trevor again. I do feel sorry for you, though. You are severely restricting yourself. One of these days, that’s going to come back to bite you in the ass.

Sighing, Trevor said, I’ll manage.

I’ll bet you will. Come on, one last time, then, before this ship sails? Nate asked. There was a note of longing in his voice that made Trevor almost change his mind.

He wanted to say yes. It had been too long since he and Nate had touched each other, hands and lips moving until they found release. He wanted to reach for Nate and let himself fall into his hot kisses and sensual touches, to give back what he was getting. He wanted to feel smooth skin and rough stubble and coarse hair, their hands on each other until they’d relieved their pent-up tension. For a long moment, he lay there in the dark, staring at Nate’s barely visible face.

I’m sorry, he said. I can’t.

Nate nodded, but he didn’t move to return to his own bed. Instead, he pushed until Trevor turned onto his side, his back to Nate, then settled down behind him. He curled around Trevor, and Trevor felt how aroused he still was. Instead of indicating he’d noticed, or that it had any effect on him at all, he pulled Nate’s arm around his waist and rested his own on top of it. He relaxed into the mattress and let sleep overtake him.

Chapter Two

Andre Cole gripped the phone tightly, barely restraining himself from shouting at the person on the other end of the line. I hate this job, he thought. Out loud, he said, Have you tried uninstalling the program and reinstalling it?

The customer gave him an earful, explaining why she couldn’t possibly do that. Andre sighed. It was going to be a long day. By the time he hung up with the clueless woman, he was already drained and in need of a break. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his coworker, Jagathi, smirking.

Don’t even start with me, Andre told her.

I did not say a word.

I hate this job, Andre muttered.

That is the fifth time you said it since you arrived today. What has you all in knots? Jagathi asked.

Oh, maybe the fact that I sort of imagined I’d have moved on from fixing the first-world problems of luddites by now. Or possibly the fact that every single conversation I’ve had today could have been prevented by simply reading the damn instructions. Andre huffed.

Jagathi’s features softened. It’s something more. I’ve known you too long.

For a moment, Andre considered telling her what was going on. They’d worked together in technical support at their company for almost five years, and Jagathi had been there during the aftermath of his wife’s death. Yet now he didn’t want to explain his sense it was time to get out, to cut his losses and move on. If he stayed on the Cape, he would never be able to let go. The problem was, he didn’t have any idea how to make such a radical change—to take off without a sense of where he was going or what he would do.

I— he started, but he was cut off by his cell phone. A glance at the number had his eyebrows up. He raised his eyes to Jagathi and said, Hang on a sec. With a nod, she turned back to her desk, and Andre answered the call. Hey, Julian.

His friend Julian’s warm voice came through the phone. Yo, man. Are you busy?

Not particularly. Cross your fingers I don’t get another damn call about our software not working right.

That good? Julian chuckled. Well, I think you’re gonna like the reason I’m calling you.

Uh huh. I could use some good news right about now. He wondered if Julian was going to talk about his wife, Elisa, and their second pregnancy, but he decided Julian wouldn’t be that insensitive as to phone him at work about it.

My company’s doing well, Julian said, and there was a note of pride in his words.

I agree with you that’s fantastic, but this has exactly what to do with interrupting me at work?

Thought you said you weren’t busy.

Andre huffed into the phone. I’m not. Look, I’m happy for you, but can you make a point before I get in trouble for taking personal calls?

Sure. This isn’t a personal call, though. It’s business. There was an obvious self-satisfied smile in his tone.

Oh, really?

Mm-hm. I’m looking to hire someone with experience in technical support who also knows something about web design and building Internet platforms.

Andre sat up straighter. You don’t say. He’d been dabbling in a variety of web-based technologies for the last couple of years, taking the occasional freelance job, but he hadn’t built up enough clients to branch out on his own.

Do I happen to know anyone who’s been my brother by choice for the last twenty years and might be looking for a new job? Julian asked, oozing sugar.

You might, Andre replied. He might be very interested in the position. Would he need an interview?

He’s having one as we speak.

Swallowing hard, Andre said, And just when does he need to be back in Boston?

Right after New Year’s, provided he gives his notice today.

Won’t be a problem.

Julian was most likely grinning like the fool he was. Good.

When they ended the call, Andre turned to Jagathi, who was eying him curiously. I quit, he muttered.

Uh…what? She blinked.

I need to go tell Vaughan I quit, Andre told her. He leaned in and said quietly, I got a better offer.

Jagathi broke out in a wide smile. Always knew you were better than this. ‘Bout time you moved on. She leaned in too. Put in a good word for me?

Only if you want to move to the city.

She scrunched her nose then relaxed. Maybe someday. Good luck, Andre. I hope my next desk mate is as good as you’ve been.

Thanks. He stood up and grinned at her, feeling more alive than he had in the last three years. It was going to be a good day.

#

Andre blew on his coffee to cool it and looked across the tiny table at his sisters. He’d agreed to go shopping with them on the condition they help him hunt for an apartment, but he regretted the decision now that he was sitting in South Station trying not to look pained by the aches in his feet and his head. There was nothing he hated more than shopping, made worse by the festive holiday atmosphere. He felt he owed Trinity and Phyllice, though. This was the first time he’d asked to make a trip into the city with them since losing Dahlia, and they were more than willing to help him out.

On the plus side, he’d found a place almost first thing, a house for rent right in Weymouth. On the down side, he’d had to endure hours of crowds and noise and stores he didn’t care about other than his sisters’ one allowance into a secondhand music store. Now that he was comfortable and on the verge of being happily caffeinated, he crossed his fingers under the table in hopes the wicked duo didn’t have plans to drag him anywhere else.

What’s the matter, baby brother? Trinity asked, flicking her long braids over her shoulder.

Nothing, Andre muttered.

Phyllice smirked. Boy hates shopping. She patted his hand. Don’t worry—we’re all done for now.

For now? he whined.

Trinity rolled her eyes. Aren’t you all supposed to like all this fashion stuff?

Aren’t you supposed to drive a truck and wear flannel? he snapped.

That shit’s for white ladies. You watch too much TV. She clicked her tongue. For a half-queer, you sure are no fun.

Don’t call me that. He scowled at her. If Grams ever heard you, she’d have your ass.

So I won’t let her hear me. You know I don’t mean it. Trinity popped the top off her hot cocoa. She’d sworn off coffee the minute she found out she was pregnant, but she hadn’t sworn off chocolate.

Yeah, I do know, Andre replied. Which is why I hate it. Can you just not?

Whatever.

Yo. Phyllice waved her hand between them. More pressing stuff to talk about right now. Andre, you gotta tell us more about this job. Thought we’d never get you back home.

He shrugged. Julian finally got his business going. Chuckling, he added, When I talked to him again, I got the feeling his main business is designing web space for bars. He had a huge account last year for a new gay club in Pawtucket.

Trinity laughed. Julian is the straightest boy I ever met.

Andre snickered. I don’t think the owners cared. He pulled out his phone, did a quick search to pull it up, and handed it over to Trinity and Phyllice.

Nice, Phyllice said.

Here. Andre held out his hand for the phone. Take a look at his own website. He pulled up Julian’s app and passed the phone back.

While they were examining it,